


James Bond is on the Trail ~or~ Have You Considered Putting a Ring on It?

by Dart



Series: MI6 Cafe December Anon Prompt Gift Exchange [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Fucked up but adorably so, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-18 09:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21708763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dart/pseuds/Dart
Summary: James Bond stalks his prey. Q just wants to go home.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Series: MI6 Cafe December Anon Prompt Gift Exchange [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571083
Comments: 22
Kudos: 155
Collections: Mi6 Cafe Prompt Fills





	James Bond is on the Trail ~or~ Have You Considered Putting a Ring on It?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Zephyrfox for betaing this story. After I got it back, it took a left turn and doubled in size, so any mistakes and wtf’ery are definitely my own doing.
> 
> This was written for the MI6 Cafe Anon Gift Exchange Prompt Fill First Week in December ThingyWhatsit.

James Bond stalked his prey, images of previous hunts filling his thoughts—the trails of blood and spent bullet casings, rose petals leading from the doorway in through to the bedroom, the animals he’d tracked across the moor as a child, dead bodies and burning wrecks, discarded clothing leading again to the bedroom but this, this was something else.

It started at the security checkpoint up front. Two of the guards wouldn’t meet his eyes and the eldest, Robert, gave him a shake of his head and a look that said, “I don’t envy you.”

James glared at him on principle, but it was only about half bloodthirsty, and even then, he didn't let it go on too long. Gladys would kill him if he gave her husband an actual heart attack.

He walked on, passing yet another sheepish looking facilities worker, up on a ladder, prodding the vents. This was the third one. _How odd._

He passed two more before he reached Q Branch. An eerie sort of hush had fallen over the paddock, and everyone was studiously avoiding his eyes. He catalogued a crushed hot chocolate cup, a knife sticking from the notice board, and an uneaten steak sandwich—three measly bites at the most

And then he heard noises from one of the larger cupboards, a lady crying. He went to offer her help, but then realized she was from the Finance and Strategy department and stopped which is just as well because when she looked up and saw 007 staring at her, her brown eyes grew wide, and she let out a desperate scream.

And he thought _well, fair._

She scrabbled backwards. “Oh my God, he sent you!” She screamed again.

He just shut the door and carried on his way. His prey was particularly vicious on days like these. He kept following the trail, over and up and down down down into the 00 locker rooms.

 _There._ _Finally_. James looked him over. No obvious signs of damage. Scratches and pink splotches on his neck, _itchy shirt then_. And then he _looked him over_ with a predatory leer. 

“My, my, my. Have you ever been a naughty, naughty boy today,” James said, appreciating the view.

Q just closed his eyes and sunk further into the waters of the jacuzzi. Finally he said, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“You’ve been threatening people with me?”

Q’s eyes popped open. “I would neve—what…happened exactly?”

“After you tell me about your budget meeting.”

“Ah. Heard about that did you?”

“No.” James gestured for him to carry on.

“I’d already warned Miss Ryerson once, well, she came back again and I said, ‘This policy will be implemented over someone’s dead body and I’ll be goddamned if it’s going to be one of my agents,’ and she was still pissing and moaning about money and I asked how much she was looking to save while putting my agents in danger and I said, ‘Well, I’ll write a program to do your job. We’ll use your salary to offset the costs.’”

“And that was it?”

“Of bloody course not! She pushed back even though she couldn’t refute my numbers, and kept pushing and I, well, I probably got that look…”

“The one that made the CIA chap piss himself?”

“That’s the one. And I said, ‘Try me!’”

“And stormed out?”

“Of course not. I’m not some muscles-for-brains ruled by his emotions. I waited 75 seconds and then set off the minor emergency text alert on my phone, said, ‘Oh so sorry! I’m needed,’ and legged it. I am a professional after all.”

“What else?”

“What do you mean ‘what else?’”

“When I opened the door to see who was crying, she saw me, screamed, said ‘Oh my God, he sent you!’ and then screamed again.”

“As if I need a 00 to do my bidding.” Q scoffed, then asked, “What’d you do?”

“I shut the door and continued following your trail.”

“What trail?”

“Hot chocolate, sandwich, knife sticking out of the notice board, Miss Ryerson and no less than five facilities men up on ladders.”

“How are the ladder men my fault? _I_ didn’t break the heating system.”

James stood there with his arms crossed and _stared._

“Okay, so I may have raised holy hell about the heating situation, but you know how I hate the cold, James.”

_That ended dangerously close to a whine._

“Who interrupted your hot chocolate? I saw you smashed it out of frustration.”

“Michael in Automotive. I didn’t even get to take a drink out of it.”

“Nice touch with the knife sticking the updated safety policy to the board. Was that “If someone gets hurt because you’re stupid, I’ll stab you myself?”

“Something like that.”

“How’s Sandy?”

“Still skittish around loud noises, but settling in. Completely recovered, _thank God.”_

“Who do I have to kill for putting onions on your sandwich?”

Q waved his hand dismissively. “That’s the hazard of sending new hires on lunch runs. If they can’t handle the wrath of 17 techies, they’ll never survive the field agents. Melissa keeps emergency rations for whoever gets screwed.”

James ran his hands through his hair, pulling a bit. “Please tell me you didn’t have Tunnock’s teacakes and mini cheddars for lunch again.”

“No, I had a cheese sandwich. It’s only the third one this week.”

James raised an eyebrow.

“Melissa enacted a Minimal Acceptable Emergency Rations Policy after you threw the wobbly to end all wobblies.”

“It wasn’t a wobbly.”

“You said, and I quote—”

But James cut him off before he could continue, “I know what I said.”

Q said, “I suppose it was a bit much for a ring tone,” but he couldn’t keep a straight face and wound up snorting.

“What’s wrong with the heat?” James asked.

”It wasn’t working when I came in and then the budget meeting, and well, I suppose I might be a little diabolical when I’m angry.”

“Miss Ryerson would agree.”

”And so I decided if I was going to be cold, I would make it worth my while and,” Q waved his hand at the jacuzzi like an elegant game show host.

”Was it only your shirt bothering you?”

Q sunk further. “ _Everything_ was bothering me. Too _tight,_ too many _seams.”_

“That explains your sweater hanging from its snag. Reminded me of Peter Rabbit escaping from the garden.”

“This was the only place I could think of to be truly warm and disrobed.” Then he added, “At least at work.”

James just kept looking down at him and Q got tired of waiting.

“Why aren’t you getting in?”

“I’m just fine right here, Q.”

Any hurt was quickly drowned in fire. “James Andrew Bond! I did not go through an inordinate amount of trouble to lure your dense arse down here so you could stand there fully clothed picking apart my day!”

“This has been the most fucked up strip tease leading to the bedroom ever,” James said. He rubbed his face.

”Whatever. I’m busy.” Q groused. And then crossed his arms for good measure.

”You're busy. Sitting in the jacuzzi in the restricted-access 00 locker room. Really. Busy doing what? Turning into a prune?”

”Testing equipment you daft git.”

”What kind of equipment?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Clearly you’re not interested. I’m sure one of the other 00s will follow the trail soon enough.”

James loosened his tie and yanked it off.

Q continued, “Anyone will do really. And if not? I’m sure I can call down one of my minions, Kyle always wants to be helpful.”

James growled. “No one wants to work with Kyle.”

“Kyle can't help it.” Q said absentmindedly.

“He’d electrocute you or something.” He had his white shirt off and was starting on his belt.

”How is it you will strip naked practically anytime anywhere, but when faced with your…well, _me_ in a sodding jacuzzi no less, your clothes might as well be super glued on until I Ctrl-Alt-Del to your green screen of jealousy?”

“Green screen of jealousy? Really?”

“It does tend to short circuit your brain at times.”

James grunted in disagreement.

Q coughed, “Sullivan,” and coughed again.

James growled, “Has he been bothering you again?”

Q chuckled. “He won’t even step into the same _room_ as me.”

“G _ood.”_ James dropped his blue windowpane suit trousers to the floor.

“You wore the socks I gave you,” Q said in disbelief.

“I did.”

“You hate those socks!”

James gave a fond exasperated smile. “You gave them to me.”

“It made me smile…to think of you in them.”

“It made me smile to put them on this morning, Q.”

And Q hoped it had been the soft smile James was wearing now.

James pulled off the over-the-calf black socks with light green binary decorating the cuffs and placed them in his black derby shoes. Then he squatted on the edge closest to Q.

“Now what?” Q asked, still pleased with the socks, but annoyed at the further delay.

“I stayed dressed because I knew once I got naked, that would be the end of all rational discussion.” James smoothed a curl behind Q’s ear.

Q leaned into the touch and said, “Rational discussion is overrated.”

“I want to know what happened and why you’re hiding down here.”

“I _am_ testing equipment, but I wanted you to find me.”

James stayed put.

Q said, “I am capable of not jumping you, you know.” Then added under his breath, “I certainly had enough practice.”

“Q. If you’re as naked as I think you are and I get in that water…I don’t care how much restraint _you_ have.” James rubbed his brow ridge in frustration. “Tell me what’s really bothering you.”

Q sounded affronted. “It was _all_ bothering me.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. What the hell happened?”

Instead of sinking further, Q straightened and stiffened into his commanding Quartermaster posture. “007. Thank you for assisting me in testing equipment. Please be so kind as to take the surveillance devices out of that satchel. Place them in various likely places around the area and turn them on.”

_“Q.”_

“No, I suffered through today. I won’t say another word until you’re holding me.” 

James finally stood and walked to the satchel, unzipped it and started removing devices.

“Those will be broadcasting once you turn them on,” Q said.

“Understood.”

James studied the area. He placed devices under the closest bench, behind a pipe, in his locker, in a lighting fixture, and in his shoe.

“Devices are placed and powered on, Q.”

“Come in the water, 007.”

James stepped out of his Sunspel shorts and into the water.

Q rolled his eyes. “Never a delay when there’s an audience to strip for.”

Once James was sitting, Q said, “Now pay attention, 007.” Q pulled what looked like a bracelet from somewhere beneath the water. Then he explained how to use the surveillance killing gadget.

”What if I’m not the bracelet wearing type?” James asked. 

“I thought you might say that. Maybe a ring”—Q looked pointedly at James’ groin—“is more your speed.”

“Cheeky,” James said, and then leaned over until his lips were brushing Q’s ear. “I’d consider letting you put a ring on it.” 

Q blushed. But then grew somber and said, “It pays to be prepared for all inevitabilities.”

”Why the hot tub? Why not the pool? Not that I’m complaining.”

Q raised his eyebrow.

James thought about it. “The heat. It might not work at high temperatures?”

“Let’s find out.” Q started the test. 

After the successful conclusion of the test, James pulled Q into his lap, and said, “You brilliant man.”

“Kyle suggested it.”

James said, “I always liked that kid.” And then kissed him before he could squawk. Indignant kisses were the best. 

————————

After the kissing frenzy, the kisses slowed and grew more tender. James kept his left arm wrapped around Q, but ran his right hand up and down Q’s back, soothing him. He nuzzled Q’s ear, and exhaled along the part of his neck that never failed to elicit a shiver.

“Tell me,” James said in that low rumble.

Q buried his face in James’ neck.

James continued to stroke his back, and said, “Take your time.”

Finally Q said, “005 almost didn’t make it out.”

James stopped himself from pointing out that that wasn’t uncommon. He waited.

“It was something small. If I hadn’t insisted we keep that redundant feature…”

“You got him out, Q.”

“But what if I don’t?” Q said. And then buried his face again. “What if it’s _you?”_

“Hey, hey,” James said softly.

“I _know,”_ Q said. “I know what you do, I know what I do. I accept the risks. I do my job, but _James.”_

James held him close. Q melted in his arms, and James’ heart melted in his chest. He was going to spend the next 62 hours coddling and cosseting his lover.

Finally, James coaxed, “Come on, Sweetheart. Let’s get out, so I can dry you off and dress you.”

“I can dress myself,” Q grumped.

“But you like it when I dress you.” 

Q smiled that small little smile of remembering with pleasure. “I do.”

“I even laid out a smaller towel for your hair. Come on, up you get.”

James toweled Q’s mop of curls gently, taking extra care to keep water from dripping down his neck. Then he kissed Q on the nose.

Q had a faint blush, he said a soft “James,” in protest.

“You like it and I like you letting me do it.”

Once Q was all dried off, James began the process of dressing him. “Hands over your head, Darling.”

Q leaned into James, eyes still closed, and raised his arms.

James eased Q’s hands into the soft green fabric and began to count. Q hummed in pleasure. On the count of eight, his eyes snapped open.

“This isn’t my shirt!”

“Of course it is.”

“Mine’s at home and has a hole in it from…that tech catastrophe we agreed to never mention.”

James guided Q’s head through the neck hole and stepped closer, so he could stick his nose in those curls and whisper into Q’s ear.

“It’s the only shirt you want on your really bad days. So I tracked down the maker and made sure to keep some here at Six.”

Q wrapped his arms around James and brushed his lips against his ear, and whispered, “Take me home, James.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you caught the innuendo in there. I think the Q Branchers on audio surveillance missed it and there’s going to be some explaining to do come Monday.
> 
> The prompt was “the heat is broken at six. q is so cold that the only solution is to sneak into the agents' locker room and use the jacuzzi. except... well we can guess which agent always lingers long after hours. naughty naughty. james finds q naked and sipping tea and climbs right in. what could go wrong?”


End file.
